Strong Currents
by AngieT
Summary: Merry reflects on some of the life changing points in his life.


Strong Currents

Angie

Edited by the Illiterate Hill Troll

Pippins first trip in a boat. Merry realising he loves Estella.

NB. I gave the hobbits coracles just because I could really picture them in one.

**LLANGUNNOR HILL**

Upon the glittering stream behold,  
Those fishermen, of courage bold,  
In numerous pairs, pursue their trade,  
In coracles, themselves have made;  
Formed of slight twigs with flannel cas'd,  
O'er which three coats of tar are plac'd.  
And (as a porter bears his pack)  
Each mounts his vessel on his back.  
_1794_

Merry stood on the high lookout and watched until the figures of Gandalf Pippin and Shadowfax could no longer be seen. He felt as though the largest part of himself had been pulled out of his body, only a thin thread connected them and that was drawing frail and close to snapping. 'O, Pippin.' Pippin torn away from him and cast loose in a treacherous world. Never before had he felt like this. Or had he?

It was one of those beautiful summer days – hot and sunny but with a gentle breeze to offer a bit of cooling. The sky was cloudless blue for as far as the eye could see and the Brandywine sparkled like silver and gold beneath the sunshine.

A party of young hobbits had taken a picnic down to the shores of the river and were sitting now, strewn about on blankets and filling in the corners with fruit tarts, jam buns and scones.

Merry had his back propped against the picnic basket that contained the mostly empty drink bottles and was munching contentedly on an apple. He was sure all his corners must be full by now but it was just pleasant to bite into the fruit and let its juice run over his fingers and down his throat. He was feeling very contented today surrounded by his friends.

There was little cousin Pippin, visiting with his family. Pippin was sprawled on his stomach on the bank of the river, shirt sleeves rolled up, braces falling off one shoulder, leaves in his hair, with his hands below the water trying to grab fish. He still found it too difficult to keep still and so had caught nothing but a long bit of muddy weed with which he had chased Estella Bolger around with for a bit.

Frodo Baggins, more like a brother than a cousin to Merry, was sitting in the shade of a tree a little away from the others. He had a book propped up on his knees but Merry's sharp eyes and ears could detect the older hobbit was actually asleep. Samwise Gamgee had accompanied Frodo from Hobbiton on this trip to act as servant and valet but Frodo insisted on treating him like a friend and including him on all their outings. Even now Sam was trying to tidy up the picnic things.

A little farther back up the hill Robin and Milo Bramble were flying a kite and Merry watched the bright stream of its tail, all tied about with coloured ribbons, probably stolen from various girls hair, twist and flap in the breeze. A dragon face had been painted onto the canvas but it looked more friendly than fierce in the sunshine. It had taken a lot of running up and down and a near miss with a tree before the kite had become airborne. Now the Bramble brothers had let it play out to the end of the line and were now collapsed together on the grass watching the kite dip and wave.

Fatty Bolger was the other of Merry's intimate circle. He was making no attempt at pretending to stay awake and had put a napkin over his face and fallen asleep. He was now serenading the rest of the party with his snores much to the amusement of the Underhill girls who were giggling together on one blanket whilst they looped together daisy chains. Pansy, Esmie, Blossom and Rose were stringing together a very long chain of daisies and singing softly as they worked.

Merry settled back and folded his hands over his full stomach. It was nice that they were all together in the sunshine. He closed his eyes, the better to feel the warm sun on his face, to hear the sounds of the river and the others around him; the quiet little murmurings which went to make up a summer's day picnic.

"I'm bored!" Merry had not realised he had been dozing until Pippin's voice awoke him. "There aren't any fish and you've eaten all the apples."

Merry rubbed at his eyes and stretched. He felt warm and languid and perfectly content with all the world. "You could take a nap."

"I'm not so old I need to sleep in the middle of the day," said Pip, pointedly. "You said we could go on the river."

Merry smiled at his little Took cousin. It was difficult to refuse the rascal anything – and a promise was a promise. "Indeed I did," he allowed Pippin to haul him to his feet. Frodo was still propped up against his tree, only Sam had now joined him, at a respectful distance, and they were both in the land of nod. The Underhill sisters had twined Fatty up in their daisy chain and were now weaving buttercups into the oblivious hobbits hair.

"Looks like it's just you and me Pipsqueak," Merry said, but then he spotted the other member of their party. Estella, Fatty's sister, was seated on a blanket to herself. She had taken out a piece of cloth, which looked to be a handkerchief, from a small round workbasket and was sewing forget-me-nots around the edge. "Care to join us Stel?"

The girl looked up, her expression far away for a moment, but then focused and smiled. "Yes, that would be lovely." She set aside her sewing and climbed to her feet, brushing her skirts smooth.

It took Merry by surprise a little when he was face to face with the girl. Somehow, when he had not been looking, Fatty's sister had grown up. Instead of having to look down at her Merry found they were almost of a height.

Estella had been an awkward little thing growing up. She had trailed after her brother and his friends, wanting to join in their games, and generally getting in the way. Girl activities had never much interested her and she would rather be up a tree than playing with dolls, and she was always getting into as much trouble as the boys were for scraping her knees or tearing her clothing. She was something of a misfit and things could not have been easy for her.

It had been a while since she had been out with them all. Her mother had finally put down her foot and made a serious attempt to domesticate her tomboy daughter. It was strange. He knew this was Stel – his childhood ditch-jumping, apple-scrumping, cow-tipping companion but now she was subtly different. Her auburn curls were done up in blue ribbons and she wore a pretty cotton dress with a pattern of blue flowers which matched her eyes.

Merry sighed. He wished things would stop changing.

"Merry!" Some things never changed. Pippin was down by the little wooden jetty and had clambered into the coracle and was trying to untie it. The paddles lay waiting on the jetty. Pippin had never been out in a boat on the river and was very excited. There were a number of these little craft either moored up to the jetty or pulled up on the bank. They were meant to hold a single hobbit adult but the children could usually squeeze two or three of their lesser bulks in, and it was more companionable. Many of the more seriouse fisherhobbits carried away their little boats on their backs after a days fishing but some were always left out for casual use.

"Wait up Pip!" Merry called.

Laughing, Estella ran down to the bank and Merry snapped out of his odd feeling. It was just Stel after all, her dirty heels kicking up under her skirts and her hair trailing as she ran. He ran after her, grabbing to pull one of the trailing ribbons from her hair as they ran. What business had Stel being a grown-up-girl anyway?

They ran down to the water; Estella trying to dodge Merry's outstretched fingers. Pippin, hearing their cries looked up and laughed. He staggered a little in the boat and dropped the end of the rope he had been holding feeling suddenly unsteady at the strange movement of the river beneath him. He tried to balance and ended up tumbling over to fall into the bottom of the boat. The little craft rocked and seemed almost to spring away from its dock. He grabbed at the sides with a cry of dismay, his stomach lurching uncomfortably. A current caught the little craft, spinning it around, and, within seconds, it was out of reach of the bank and heading downstream.

"Pip!" Estella and Merry cried out together.

"Merry!" wailed Pip looking over the side. The bank seemed a long way away already.

Merry did not pause to think. Stripping off his clothing as he ran he paused by the riverbank for a moment to kick free of his breeches and then plunged into the cold water of the river. He came up gasping, shook hair from his eyes and then sped through the water like an arrow to the small craft.

The swiftly flowing river had caught the coracle in its grasp and the boat was rotating slowly as it moved out into the middle of the river. Once caught there by the swift current it would be impossible for Merry to catch up.

That would not happen! For a moment it seemed as thought the craft were getting no nearer, then Merry stuck out with renewed force and gained steadily. He blocked his ears to the cries from the others on the bank and also Pippin's frightened cries.

He was gaining. As a Bucklander Merry could swim but he had only ever done so for pleasure and the pace he was setting now tore at his lungs. He concentrated only on the slowly rotating side of the boat. Occasionally he caught a glimpse of Pippin's frightened face and wild curls. He pushed himself on determined, and his flailing hand struck out as if of its own volition and closed around the trailing end of the rope.

Gasping he reached and found his feet could still touch bottom. Digging his strong toes into the mud he hauled the coracle to a stop, straining against the rope.

"Merry!" Pippin gasped. "You saved me!"

Merry had no breath left for talking. He simply turned about and pulling the boat behind him headed back to the bank where the others had now gathered. Frodo had stripped down to his shirt and was standing on the bank now ready should he be needed, though he was white faced and shaking. Estella had run back and gathered armfuls of the picnic blankets. The Underhill girls were clutching each other and crying.

Merry found himself being hauled onto the bank by several willing pairs of hands and he lay gasping for a moment. He saw Pippin plucked from the boat and hugged hard by first Frodo and then Fatty. Estella knelt by Merry's side and wrapped a blanket about his shoulders. Her face was white with shock.

"It's alright," Merry reassured. "We're safe."

"Oh Merry…" she gasped. She wiped his face with a piece of cloth.

Hands were now hauling Merry to his feet and thumping him on the back. He had been so frightened but now he felt elated.

"Let's get you home." Frodo said at last, still looking as white as a new boiled dish clout. "I dare not think what your mother is going to say when you come home in this state."

Merry laughed. He still held Stel's piece of cloth in his hand and used it to wipe his streaming hair from his eyes.

"Merry!" Pippin flung himself against Merry, nearly knocking his rescuer back to the ground. "You saved me." Merry reached down and hauled Pippin up into his arms, hugging fiercely.

"I had to," he said. "Where would I be without my Pipsqueak." And the thought made him shudder; though Frodo insisted it was the cold, and made him run all the way home to dry off.

By the time they reached the Hall Merry felt utterly weary and drained. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and pull the covers up over his head. Back at the Hall he had to stand through Frodo's explanation of what happened. It was strange, hearing anothers point of view. Merry frowned, had it really happened like that? He and Pip were bundled off into warm baths before he could get things straight in his head. He was glad no one asked him any questions because he was sure he could not have answer them. He only remembered seeing the woven side of the boat, spinning, seeming to retreat before his hands.

He only came vaguely back to himself when he was tucked into bed with a clean nightshirt on. He wanted to sleep but his Mum made him drink warm sweetened milk and a honey biscuit. She let him stop when the milk ran in a warm trickle down his chin. His head was nodding and he was asleep almost the moment she laid his head upon the pillow.

"My brave boy." Her familiar lips kissing his forehead sent him down into sleep.

He dreamt darkly. He could not remember the dreams, only the feelings of loss and helplessness as some dark force drew Pippin ever further away. He called out for his cousin but only the echoes mocked him back.

He woke to feel the mattress dip beneath him and a pair of cold feet met his shin. It felt as thought he had been asleep for years; for centuries; buried fathoms deep in sleep. It was a long swim back to shore. Still half asleep he opened his eyes a crack. Turning, Merry could see, in the last of the evening light coming through the imperfectly drawn curtains, Pippins cinnamon curls and pale face. Pippin pulled the covers up over the both of them and snuggled into Merry's stomach. Merry wrapped his arms around his little cousin and held him close. Pippin smelt of toast, warm milk and lemon soap. He wriggled a little, protesting being held quite so tightly and then settled when Merry would not release his hold, perhaps realising it was something they both needed.

Merry slept well for the rest of the night, undisturbed by dreams until the morning sunshine, and birdsong woke them both to smells of breakfast. It was Estella who bought them both a tray and before she turned to leave she paused a moment, then swiftly leant over and kissed Merry.

Looking down onto the planes of Rohan Merry could almost see the sparkle of the Brandywine on that long ago summer's day. The mane and tail of the great horse which carried Pippin away seemed to sparkle in the sunlight like silver and gold. Pippin was being drawn away from him and all Merry could hope was that Gandalf would keep him safe – as safe as any of them could be.

He wished more than anything that they were back home in the Shire. That Frodo and Sam were safe under the tree snoozing together, that Fatty, dear old Fatty, was safe and well and all the dear folk of the Shire need never have anything to fear. He would give anything to be back on that picnic day now, with Estella at her embroidery.

Merry reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. He looked down at the neat embroidery of forget-me-nots and smiled.

There had been many more picnics and many more summers. Pippin had been taught to manage the coracles and row boats and often the others came out with them. Frodo paddling his own craft while Sam refused to step off firm ground; Estella and maybe one of the other girls sharing another. They had races and adventures and explored, and one quiet evening Merry had found himself in a boat with Estella just as the sun had started to sink in shades of red and gold and purple and he had put his arm around her and after kissed her because it had seemed the right moment, and because he wanted to, and because she was lovely in the soft light.

He could never really recall the incident on the Brandywine. In his memories of that day what stuck in his mind most clearly was the image of Estella sitting on the ground clutching a wet picnic rug, her face pale. They had so nearly lost Pip that day. The current had drawn him away with dreadful speed as he was drawing away now. But there was something else. Merry frowned.

Here in Rohan – so many leagues from the Shire, on the brink of War, he realised for the first time with the clarity of sunshine through a cloud, that he loved Estella. He loved Estella.

A fierce feeling of longing and protectiveness swelled through him. Frodo, who knows where, Pip, riding far away, Stel, back in the Shire. So much to fight for. He had to do something! He would not be left behind, not when everyone else rode into battle to protect the ones they loved. He paused for a moment as though on the banks of the river then turned and took the plunge.

end


End file.
